


Sneaking Around

by Creatortan



Series: Kyman Week 2018 [4]
Category: South Park
Genre: Coming Out, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Kyman Week, Lingerie, M/M, MOM SWAP AU, Sexual Content, Time Skips, Underage Drinking, edited into different chapters to help the flow, fuck g-rald, sheila for best mom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 02:07:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15184412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creatortan/pseuds/Creatortan
Summary: Eric Broflovski was grounded a lot, but that never stopped Kyle Cartman from seeing him anyways.Four short snapshots around Kyle sneaking into Eric's room.From myMom Swap AU(Kyman Week 2018) Day 5: Personality Swap (except not really, their personalities don't swap in this one)





	1. 8

**Author's Note:**

> i really love this au hhhhhhh  
> basic background: eric was born to the broflovskis, kyle was born to the cartmans, eric broflovski, kyle cartman
> 
>  
> 
> [here's where i explain the au more in depth!!](http://yumotohakone.tumblr.com/post/175590591527/introducing-the-mom-swap-au-basically-an-au)

Eric Broflovski was not, how one would say, a “good child.” In fact, he was probably the biggest fucking brat to ever exist. Therefore, it would go without saying, that Eric was grounded very, _very_ often. The only kid grounded more often than Eric was Butters.

But the difference between Eric being grounded and Butters being grounded was that Eric deserved it, and he completely and 100% understood _why_ he was being grounded. And that was only because his mom would sit him down and talk to him about it. Not because he, yanno, really felt any guilt or anything.

“Eric!” Sheila shrieked. Everyone froze. Eric cringed, slowly turning to face his mother.

“Eric, what is the _meaning_ of this?” Sheila tapped her foot impatiently, holding the hand of a tear-streaked Butters. _“Why_ was one of your friends locked in the basement?”

“Oooooooh~” the other boys said in sync.

 _“You’re in trooubleee~”_ Kenny finished, pointing at Eric.

“Mooom,” Eric whined. He glanced fearfully at his laughing and pointing friends. “We just wanted to make Butters a superhero!”

“Eric, no excuses,” Sheila chided, “You apologize to Butters right this instant, and then you’re going to your room.”

Butters sniffled, looking up at Eric through his lashes, gently knocking his knuckles. Eric glared, his cheeks turning pink while the other boys continued to snicker.

“Sorry for locking you in the basement with Kenny’s possum.” Eric mumbled.

“Aw, shucks, Eric,” Butters said, “I accept your apology.” Butters then launched himself at Eric in a tight, snotty hug.

“Thank you, Eric, now go up to your room.”

Eric grumbled as he started walking up the stairs. Sheila began ushering the rest of the boys out the door.

“Goodbye boys! You can—” Sheila paused. “What-what- _what_ did you say about a _possum?”_

_..._

Eric laid on his bed, frowning as he held Clyde Frog above him.

“I _know,_ Clyde Frog, and I didn’t even get to finish designing my costume.” Eric sighed, pulling Clyde Frog down to his chest. “This blows.”

_Tap-tap-tap._

“Since we’re gonna be stuck in here for a while, what kind of game do you think we should play?” Eric sat up on his bed, holding Clyde Frog in his lap.

_Tap-tap-tap._

“Okay, I _definitely_ heard something that time,” Eric stopped, listening. The tapping sound became more insistent. Then it stopped. “Huh, I guess it’s gone now.”

_BANG!_

Eric jumped, finally looking towards his window. From between the curtains, he saw a curled fist pressed against the glass. Confused, and slightly nervous, Eric clutched Clyde Frog in his arms as he hopped off of his bed, walking towards the window. He stretched his arm out as far as he could, keeping as much distance between himself and the window; he pinched the curtains between his fingers, quickly pulling them towards himself with a wince.

_Tap-tap-tap!_

Was is possible for a tap on a window to sound annoyed? Eric opened his eyes and saw Kyle glaring at him.

“Oh, shit!” Eric said, a surprised smile on his face as he scrambled to unlock his window. The window slid upwards and Kyle clambered in, almost falling into Eric’s arms with all the grace of an elephant in a mouse parade. The two ended up collapsed onto the floor, trying to shake the dizziness out of their heads.

“Eric? Are you okay in there, bubbie?” Sheila called from down the hall. Eric’s eyes widened.

“Uh—Yeah, Mom!” Eric called back, “I’m fine!”

“Okay, sweetie; just remember your bedtime!”

Eric heard his mom’s footsteps go down the stairs, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“What are you doing here, Kahl?” Eric couldn’t keep the excitement out of his voice, his eyes glittering as he leaned forward towards Kyle.

“Shut up, fatass,” Kyle hissed, his eyes darting to the door. His voice dropped into a whisper. “I didn’t finish telling you how fucking stupid your argument was.”

“Hmm,” Eric hummed, a finger tapping his chin in faux thought, “Which one?”

“The one where you said Aquaman would beat Batman in a fight!” Kyle rose to a stand, marching over to drop onto Eric’s bed where he proceeded to begin outlining his argument.

Eric looked up at him from his seat on the floor. For a second he was stuck in a daze. Then he stood and jumped onto the bed, his weight causing Kyle to roll over into his side.

“All I’m saying is that there’s nothing that can withstand the raw fighting force of a billion crabs, Kahl—”

Kyle’s glared, opening a mental notebook for a refute. They argued until Sheila knocked on Eric’s door and told him it was time for bed.

“This isn’t over!” Kyle said as he climbed out the windowsill.

It wasn’t the first time Kyle had snuck over, and it wouldn’t be the last.


	2. 12

So maybe Kyle known for being a little petty, but it wasn’t  _his_ fault Eric got grounded. He just  _happened_ to remind Mrs. Broflovski that they were running out of toilet paper and dish soap.  _She_ was the one who ended up driving to the supermarket and seeing her son sitting on the side of the road next to a homeless man with a beer cradled in his hands. A beer bought with $20 Eric stole from Kyle.

So Eric was grounded. Kyle had been doing a puzzle with Ike when they got home.

“Eric Theodore Broflovski—you are twelve years old! I will not tolerate this kind of  _dangerous_ and  _reckless_ behavior from you! You will go to your room  _right now_ and once I put away these groceries we are having a  _stern_ talking to, young man.” Eric started ascending the stairs, still silent under the scolding, his face tilted down and hidden underneath his thick bangs. “Just imagine what your father will say when he hears about this,” Sheila muttered.

Eric winced. Kyle only noticed because he was watching, but for a split second, Eric had a reaction to something his mother said to him, the first time since he’d walked into the house. Kyle wasn’t sure what to make of it.

He helped Sheila put away groceries, silently, because she was in a tense mood, and the atmosphere in the house had become stifling due to it. He left afterwards, with a strained smile to Ike, who gave one in return before retreating to his room.

Later that night, Kyle scaled the familiar path up the Broflovski household. Eric had stopped locking his window years ago, so Kyle simply slid it open and easily entered the room. He shut the window behind him, muttering—

“Hey, fatass, what are you gonna do about my twenty bucks?” Then Kyle turned around, and his brow furrowed. Eric was curled up on his bed, his back facing Kyle. “Hey, dude, are you okay?” Kyle hesitantly approached the bed. He put a hand on Eric’s shoulder. “...Eric?”

And then Kyle heard the tiniest sniffle, and in a panic he started trying to roll Eric over.

“Hey, dude, c’mon—” Kyle’s voice took on a frantic edge. Usually when Eric cried it was a whole event—Eric crying quietly into his own pillow, in the middle of the night, alone in his room, made something painful lodge in Kyle’s throat. Kyle was able to get Eric onto his back, leaned over him as he kneeled on the bed at his side. “What’s wrong?”

Eric hadn’t opened his eyes, stubbornly keeping them shut as tears escaped down his cheeks. He clutched Clyde Frog in his arms; it was the first time Kyle had seen the faded toy in years.

“Hey, uh,” Kyle searched Eric’s face, at a loss for words, “I’m...I’m here. I’m here for you.”

Eric opened his eyes and just stared up at Kyle, his breaths hiccupping. He tipped his head, pressing his forehead against Kyle’s knee. He laid there. Kyle, not really knowing what to do, gently placed his hand on Eric’s head, running his fingers through his bangs. Eric took a deep, shuddering breath. There was silence.

“He….” Eric’s voice broke, “He  _hates_ me.”

Eric’s voice was thick, it wobbled around the edges as if it were about to shatter. Eric’s knuckles turned white around Clyde Frog.

“He  _hates_ me so much…” Eric mumbled.

“Who…?” The word was barely a breath in the air, escaped from Kyle’s mouth entirely against his will.

 _“Dad—”_ Eric burst into a new swell of tears, rolling his body over to curl towards Kyle. Kyle didn’t say anything. There was nothing he  _could_ say. He couldn’t just fucking  _lie_ and tell Eric his dad didn’t hate him. He couldn’t tell him everything would be okay.

So Kyle did the only other thing he could think of—he just...held Eric. He scooched his body down the bed and wrapped his arms around him, felt Eric’s hand paw at him and tangle in his shirt. Kyle rested his cheek on Eric’s head and rubbed at his back and laid there. They both laid there while Eric left a wet spot on Kyle’s shoulder. Kyle held Eric until the moon started to sink outside the window, leaving a trail of moonlight to highlight the slow shaking of Eric’s shoulders, the movement of Kyle’s hand as he traced patterns on Eric’s back. Kyle held him until his breathing finally started to even out, and when Kyle whispered his name he didn’t respond.

Kyle couldn’t find it in him to get up, not with how Eric nuzzled into his chest and gripped him closer, his face still pink from crying. Liane wouldn’t miss him, and Kyle could just slip out in the morning before Sheila noticed him.


	3. 15

Eric was fifteen and bored and  _horny._ He pouted as he laid on his bed, staring at the string of messages he’d gotten on his phone. What was the point of a fuckbuddy if they couldn’t come over to fuck? Or. Well. Fool around, mostly. They hadn’t gone  _that_ far yet. Though Eric had _definitely_ been thinking of it.

Seriously! Who gives a flying fuck about  _chemistry_ when there’s a hot piece of ass  _literally_ asking you if you want a beej. Christ. Kyle was  _such_ a square. Eric huffed, rolling over onto his back, glancing to make sure he’d locked his door. Well. If Kyle wasn’t gonna come over like a  _normal_ teenage boy, Eric was gonna have to resort to drastic measures.

Eric slid off his bed and threw open his closet doors. He knelt down and pulled out a big, unassuming cardboard box labeled “summer clothes.” Instinctively, Eric looked behind him, before he eagerly opened his little treasure chest.

Eric picked out a few favorites and laid them out on the floor in front of him. He ended up picking a pretty pink set with lots of soft lace. It was new and wasn’t really the type Eric normally went for, but Kyle had a thing for Eric lookin’ pretty and he was gonna use every trick in the book to get laid tonight.

Eric put the whole set on, and then put his pajamas back on over it. With a grin he sat back on his bed, his skin already feeling sensitive from where the lace rubbed against it. With a grin, Eric leaned back against his pillows. He lifted the hem of his shirt, just barely enough to reveal a little hint of pink tulle at his hip.

**To Kahl:**

**_oops_ **

**_[image sent]_ **

**From Kahl:**

**_Eric._ **

Eric took his pajama pants off and sat on his knees. Again tugging his hem to show off the strip of skin between his shirt and thigh-highs; he slipped his fingers under the strap of the garter belt.

**To Kahl:**

**_[image sent]_ **

**_what_ **

**From Kahl:**

**_I know what you’re trying to do and it’s not going to work_ **

Eric took his shirt off, laying against his pillows. He angled his phone camera to show the impish little grin on his lips, and the lace trim on his v-neck teddy with its spaghetti straps. Before he took the picture, he made sure to pinch a little at his nipples, so they’d stick up through the sheer fabric. They were super sensitive, though, so he had to bite his lip when he did it.

**To Kahl:**

**_[image sent]_ **

**_idk what ur talking abt_ **

**From Kahl:**

**_Jesus christ_ **

Eric knew Kyle was struggling. How could he not be? How could anyone focus on mole conversions when they had an angel sending them tasteful nudes?

Eric laid on his stomach, tilting his phone over his shoulder to show off his favorite part: the cute heart cutout on his panties. With his legs kicked up it even showed off the cute kitty paws on the bottom of his socks! It took a few tries since he couldn’t see his phone screen properly.

Eric’s heart was beginning to pound. He typed out a caption, then erased it, bit his lip, and then retyped it. Eric hesitated over the ‘send’ button. He looked away when he finally pressed it, his face burning.

**To Kahl:**

**_[image sent]_ **

**_u dont even have to take them off to fuck me_ **

Kyle didn’t respond, and Eric thought he’d majorly fucked up until he heard a familiar rapping at his window.

Eric didn’t get “fucked” that night, but he did get eaten out by a  _very_ enthusiastic Kyle. Jesus.

Even though Kyle gagged him, Ike still gave him a sideways look at breakfast the next morning.


	4. 17

Kyle was somewhat uncomfortable in the house that was like a home to him growing up. He sat stiffly on the couch, his hand in Eric’s. They’d decided before they went into their senior year, they’d finally tell  _everybody._ And everybody included Eric’s parents….

...and Eric’s  _father._

“So me and Kahl are boyfriends,” Eric’s voice wavered, but he still stared defiantly at Gerald, silently challenging him. “And we have been, officially, for a full year and eight days.”

Gerald spluttered.

“I should’ve seen this coming,” Gerald said with a shake of his head, “I  _told_ your mother not to coddle you so much as a boy—and to let you hang out with a  _Cartman_ was bad news!”

“Yeah? Well you can take your opinion and  _shove it,”_ Eric retorted, flipping his hand over to intertwine his fingers with Kyle’s. “We’re in love and you can’t do  _shit_ about it.”

“Oh yeah? Well I’m still your father, and I can start by forbidding you from seeing him! No son of mine is getting thousands of dollars of  _my_ money for college, just to spend it doing whatever the hell you faggots do!”

“Gerald!” Sheila shrieked suddenly.

“Really, Gerald? So it’s not  _gay_ if it’s done in a hot tub behind your wife’s back?” Eric smirked, bitterly joyous at the way Gerald’s face paled.

“No! It’s not! It’s not gay! How do you even know that?”

“And another thing?” Eric added, smug, “I don’t even  _need_ you for college, either. While you’ve been baiting teenage girls into committing suicide on the internet,  _I’ve_ been making a name for myself. Getting connections.  _Making good, honest money._ Something  _you_ have never been privy to.”

Gerald was speechless. His mouth gaped like a fish. He turned to his wife, helplessly. Sheila, resolutely, refused to look at him. Little did he know, Eric had already told his mother  _everything,_ and he’d been saving up his speech for that moment, just to rub in the humiliation a little further.

He hadn’t told Kyle what Sheila would do after, but from the relief in his eyes, Kyle assumed she would take good care of the situation.

Gerald stormed from the room out the front door, his car starting up from outside. After he left, Eric heaved a shaky breath, his head falling onto Kyle’s shoulder.

“I’m very proud of you, Eric,” Sheila told him, “And I’m  _so_ very glad you two have each other! I always knew it, you know, mother’s intuition and all. Especially with the way you boys were always talking about each other! Oh! And Eric—your little journals!”

“Mom!” Eric whined, throwing his head back.

“They were so cute! The little drawings you did!” Sheila looked overjoyed, to be finally able to gush about her two precious boys, “And the way Kyle would always sneak into your room, Eric! It was so precious.”

Eric and Kyle’s eyes boggled.

“You  _knew_ about that?” Kyle asked.

“Of course I did! You boys were never very discrete, you know.” Sheila laughed, “Who do you think was the one who bought the new ladder when our old one started to rust? Certainly not Gerald! Kyle, you used that old thing more than anyone else ever did!”

Kyle and Eric blushed, Eric hiding his face in his boyfriend’s shoulder.

“At least now you and your boyfriend can use the front door, bubbie.”

**Author's Note:**

> I also edited this into separate mini chapters bc i thought it helped w the flow a little better; it felt jarring to go from the scene when theyre 12 to the scene when theyre 15 lol


End file.
